


Sleeping Prince

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: Summer Days Prompts [24]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 16:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: Little Prince AU.At long last, Megatron meets his Creation...





	Sleeping Prince

Despite what many may have thought, upon hearing news from Soundwave that Dreadwing’s ship was back, Megatron didn’t immediately drop everything he was doing to go and meet his trusted soldier and the precious cargo he was bringing him.

He just acknowledged Soundwave’s message with a discreet, barely noticeable nod as he continued overseeing the debriefing he was stuck in. He showed no special hurry to leave, didn’t look like his mind was wandering. For everyone around him, Megatron was acting perfectly normally. If he was glad when the meeting was over, he didn’t show it. And as he walked the halls of the Nemesis, his steps were still as unhurried as usual.

And what would he have hurried, honestly?

Megatron had perfect trust in Dreadwing, unlike he had in Starscream (and it was no coincidence the annoying Seeker had been assigned on a bombing run in another sector of the galaxy and wasn’t planned to be back before a whole orn at least). If Dreadwing was back and Soundwave had not added anything to his message, then everything had gone perfectly well. Running wouldn’t change anything.

He still allowed himself a moment of immobility and quietness as he reached the doors behind which Dreadwing and his cargo awaited him. He wasn’t nervous – Megatron was never nervous! But he had to admit being both put out and eager.

It wasn’t every day, after all, that you met your previously unknown Creation.

He had to give Orion that, his former lover had their son well-hidden. If not for Soundwave’s spy network and a few careless messages intercepted, Megatron would never had known.

It enraged him, the way Optimus Prime had seen fit to cut Megatron out of the life of the little life they had created together (and it was barely mitigated by the knowledge that Prime didn’t raise their Creation himself and that their son knew very well who were both his progenitors). But now, it would be Optimus Prime’s turn to enrage (and worry) as Megatron held what was his at his side.

Huffing in satisfaction, Megatron let the doors slide open and walked inside.

Dreadwing gave a bow at his arrival. “Lord Megatron.”

“At ease, Dreadwing,” the Warlord waved as he looked intently toward the berth besides Dreadwing. “I trust everything went to plan? Casualities?"

“Seven Vehicons and four Eradicons, my Lord.”

Negligible, Megatron decided.

The flyer obligingly took a few steps to the side to let his Lord see the prize he had brought back while Megatron took a few stride to hover over the berth. The grey mech raised an optic ridge, caught slightly off guard.

There wasn’t one but two Younglings there, hugging each other close despite being both unconscious. They were as different as night and day – and none of them looked remotely as Megatron would have expected a Creation of his and Orion to look like. One was red and yellow, painted with an optic-catchy flame pattern. His companion was a little smaller and had his head tucked under the other Youngling’s chin; mainly white with highlight of red and blue, he also spotted a chevron and doorwings that often marked the frames build in Praxus.

“Which one? Which one is my Creation?” he asked aloud, optics never leaving the two asleep Younglings. The Shifter they had managed to put in the staff of the base where his son was raised hadn’t transmitted any picture to the Nemesis, for fear it’d be intercepted, and very little by mean of description; Megatron could hazard a guess based on colors, but…

“Prince Smokescreen is the doorwinged mechling, my Lord,” Dreadwing said quietly.

Megatron loomed closer. Did they sense his presence? They cuddled further against each other, one of them emitting a slight noise as he did so. It was strangely endearing. But it still didn’t explain the main question bothering him.

“May I inquire as to where the sudden addition comes from?” he asked, giving Dreadwing a quick, pointed glance before he returned to the contemplation of his son. His son… A life he had created with Orion… Once upon a time, it would have made him the happiest of mech. Nowadays, his feelings were (sadly) far more mixed.

“Forgive me for the untimely surprise, Lord Megatron. I found myself in need of leverage to make the young Prince comply with my demands. Using one of his friends was the fastest and safest method we had available.”

Megatron hummed. He had suspected as much. “Who is he, exactly?”

“According to Makeshift, Hot Rod is the ward of Autobot Commander Kup. An orphan rumored to be the bastard offspring of a Temple priest and…” Dreadwing hesitated and Megatron gave him another look. “The former Prime. There is no confirmation, though. Official background says he’s the Creation of two traders who died in a shuttle accident.”

“Ah.” Well, Megatron couldn’t say he’d be surprised if the rumors were true. It’d fit with the decadent lifeline of the former, shattered elite of Cybertron – and it would explain why that mechling had landed the ward of one of Cybertron’s most renowned old warrior and survivalist. However, Optimus and his mechs were also bleeding Sparks who would try and give the best possible to any orphan, as Megatron had been able to find out.

Smokescreen was holding to the other mechling for dear life. “They’re good friends?”

“It seems so, my Lord.” Dreadwing shifted, eyeing the two Younglings too. “They certainly care a lot for each other, from what I have observed. And a Youngling shouldn’t be denied company from his own age. My Lord,” he added quickly.

Megatron harrumphed. “Indeed not.” That wasn’t something he had really paid any thought to before. His main goal had been to get Smokescreen back and out of Optimus’ clutches. He had planned a lot of things ahead for his son’s physical comfort. But there was a grain of truth in Dreadwing’s words as well; spending his time with soldiers alone might not be the best for a growing mechanism (and it was quite possibly the reason why Optimus had seen fit to have a bunch of Younglings on the same base as their Creation).

Though if Dreadwing didn’t think Megatron was getting the subtle plead not to kill the extra Youngling, then the flyer was an idiot.

Truthfully, this additional Youngling – this ‘Hot Rod’ – bothered him. He had little patience or interest in growing mechanisms who weren’t related to him. And the possibility he could be descended from the Primes Dynasty was unnerving.

On the other hand, he didn’t wish to cause his Creation more traumas if possible -- he wasn’t fool enough to think that the Youngling would greet him with open arms, nor would he not attempt to escape without something to keep him quiet and obedient.

And, of course, friend was always good leverage, as Dreadwing had demonstrated.

Megatron hummed. “How long until they wake up?”

“The effects of the stasis should wear off in a megacycle, my Lord.”

Plenty of time to make plans then. But for now, Megatron just watched, Spark somewhere between elation and wonder, as his Creation slept.


End file.
